The Van Dorts
by GryffindorCriss
Summary: Part of a three-shot series, one for each of Victor and Victoria's children. Post-movie.


**I have never actually written Corpse Bride before, but I'm trying to expand my horizons and writing ability, so feedback would be appreciated.**

**I LOVE Tim Burton, and one of the films that really got me to watch the rest of his films was Corpse Bride. When I was seven or eight (when I first saw it), I adored the movie so much. I've been reading fanfics over the year and had my own headcannons, but I've only recently been brave enough to publish them.**

**This is part one of a three-shot series, so...enjoy! By the way, see if you can spot the glaringly obvious Tim Burton I put in!**

Emily

As the clock struck eleven in the evening, Victor began to tug on his tie and twist it - _again, _he noted - and he became paler than usual. Good Lord, it had been eight hours and still _nothing_..._  
_

From beside him, someone patted him on the shoulder - Mr Baker, the male servant of the house, who was currently looking very nervous but hopeful. "She's fine, young man, you mark my words."

Mr Baker's wife - Mrs Baker, of course, who was the female servant of the house - was assisting Doctor Burton upstairs: Victor had not been allowed in, being told that it was best if he weren't around to get in the way of the doctor. While it was probably best, not being there made the young man very nervous and worried.

"Mr Baker," He blurted, unable to stop himself. "Do you have...Have you..."

Mr Baker seemed to understand. "Hmm, of course. Well, it was a long time ago: two boys and a girl in all." He sat back, reminiscing on the past fondly. "They all went well, young man, and that was without the best doctor in town - Mrs Van Dort will be fine, you just wait and see."

As Victor continued to half-listen to the older man, his heart was starting to beat so hard that he could feel it trying to escape from his chest: who knew he'd be this nervous?

Well, besides the entire town he supposed.

But Victor couldn't even find a way to calm himself down: there was no way, because within the next twenty-four hours he was going to become a father and the thought honestly terrified him.

Everything had been perfectly fine up until this: he and Victoria living together, enjoying life as two newly-weds actually in love with one another and getting to know each other. They shared hobbies with each other, co-existing quite peacefully and happily without much to complain about: they did whatever it took to impress their parents when they visited occasionally (not often, thank goodness) but besides that they could be themselves without much hassle.

And then Victoria had gotten sick.

At first, Victor had been extremely concerned: his wife was only a young woman, so she may have been able to fight off a few illnesses, but her body was rather thin and, in his opinion, fragile. Victor had been so worried about Victoria's health that he had, against her wishes, sent for a doctor to check her over as soon as possible to see what was the matter with her.

As it turned out, Victoria wasn't sick because of an illness: _no,_ Doctor Burton had announced,_ your wife is expecting. Congratulations, Mister Van Dort!_

Victor wasn't exactly against the idea of having children, of course. seeing as they were expected as some point now that he and Victoria were married: it was rather the risks that could come with it for both the mother and child, and then the fear that he would be a rather terrible father. After all, he was Victor Van Dort, the man who could knock over just about any ornament, trip over his own two feet, and drop things easily if he wasn't thinking straight.

At that moment Mrs Baker, the house-keeper and the other one of only two servants, came down the stairs and into the hallway. Victor stood up immediately, and she smiled weakly at him.

"So?" Victor questioned quickly, tugging on his shirt collar. "How is she? How is the b-baby? Does she need me up there?"

Mrs Baker shook her head at him kindly, pointing at the seat he'd been sitting in. "Doctor Burton has it under control, Mister Van Dort: and your wife is doing fine, as far as I can tell."

"She is?" Victor repeated, relief flooding through him. "Oh, thank goodness..."

"I know you're nervous," She continued quietly, pushing back some hair that had come out from her usually-tidy grey bun that night. "I quite understand your concerns, sir, what with how thin she is," And here she frowned: she clearly did not agree with Maudeline's idea of corsets and thin waists on pregnant women which had been strongly thrown onto Victoria over the past few months. "But she's strong if anything. Trust me, she'll be fine."

Victor gave a nod before realizing something. "...And-"

"The baby should be fine too," Mrs Baker agreed, and she went to a nearby cupboard to pull out some towels. "You have to understand that we have no sure way of telling until he or she is out."

Ah. There it was: another reason to worry. "Oh, heh, yes, of course..." Inside, though, Victor Van Dort was starting to panic again.

* * *

Shortly after the clock struck one in the morning, it happened.

Mr Baker had been on the verge of falling asleep, shutting his eyes and drooping for a moment before jerking awake again - he wasn't as young as Victor was anymore, and he was tired after a long day's work anyway.

Victor, meanwhile, had been pacing the floor downstairs nervously, occasionally looking up at the grandfather clock to check the time and then bite his lip, all the while wringing his tie in his hands like it was a safety blanket of some kind: for the better part of an hour, it had all been yelling (mostly from Doctor Burton) and crying (on Victoria's part, he supposed), and he was feeling rather guilty in himself for doing this to his wife.

Once it had stopped, however, Victor halted and begun to worry: while the loud noises had not been at all pleasant to listen to, at least he knew she was still _alive_ and fine (or as fine as she would be having a baby) - when it stopped, he could no longer be sure.

"Mr Baker, d-do you think-"

Mr Baker sent him a tired smile. "Most likely. Why don't you go and take a look?"

"I...I can't go up there," Victor said, somewhat appalled. "I mean...what if it's not at all over and I just end up interrupting? Or what if-"

And then there was the sound of a door upstairs opening, causing him to stop talking and look at the stairs. Doctor Burton, a tall and eccentric man with wild hair and large spectacles, appeared a moment later, looking rather worn out as he made his way down the stairs; Victor watched him, heart beating fast and head spinning. _Could it be...? Was everything alright?_

When the doctor reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes flickered up to meet Victor's - and then he _smiled_ tiredly.

"Doctor?" Victor asked, still not entirely sure of what had actually happened. "How is she?...And the baby?"

"Your wife is fine," Doctor Burton stated, nodding with satisfaction as he walked towards the door. "Your housekeeper is currently settling her into bed and making her comfortable, all of that: she did tremendously, Mr Van Dort, for a waifish woman such as herself."

Victor felt the coldness and worry inside of him start to melt away with relief. "Oh...oh thank goodness!" He breathed out of relief - and then it hit him. "And the baby?"

The doctor stopped by the door, hand resting on the handle, and turned to face Victor. "You are very lucky, Mister Van Dort, because the baby is also healthy - got a good pair of lungs and all that..." He suddenly smiled warmly, reaching up to smooth his wild hair. "It's a girl. Disappointment or not?"

Disappointment? What on Earth was he talking about? "Why...no, no of course not-"

"Good," The doctor interrupted approvingly. "You didn't strike me as the kind to worry about the gender of a baby, unlike most of the men in his town." His smile slipped and he looked rather annoyed. "A boy this, a boy that...you'd think healthy is enough for them but no... Anyway," He cleared his throat and opened the door. "I shall be over in the afternoon, Mister Van Dort, to check up on your wife and baby: until then, I've left your housekeeper in charge of making sure your wife recovers properly. Congratulations, by the way."

Victor couldn't speak - his mind was suddenly swimming with the new information, and he suddenly realized something that would terrify any man in his position.

_Good lord, this is it. I have a child - a daughter - and I'm a father...a _father._  
_

* * *

"Okay," Mrs Baker breathed when she came out of the room, and she sent a small smile to Victor. "You can go in now, sir: but be careful," She added sternly, and Victor tried not to blush. "They're both sleeping - Lord knows, your wife needs it - and I don't want them to wake before they've had some good sleep."

"Absolutely," Victor agreed, voice suddenly going high and nervous; his hands reached for his tie. "N-N-No noise or anything. Got it."

Entering the room, there was a nice warm glow: the fireplace was burning, clearly only being put on recently now that all of the excitement was over, and it bathed the bedroom walls in a toasty-feeling warmth. From across the room, Victor noticed that Victoria was indeed asleep and he couldn't help but smile to himself. For months he had been worried that this day would come and...well, they'd be separated again for a long time, that he would lose her. But now the day had come and gone, and Victoria was no worse than she had been before this whole ordeal started.

There was a snuffling gurgle from across the room, and Victor immediately found his eyes drawn to the cradle by the bed - inside there was, dare he say it, _his_ child...he still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that he was a father now, even after months of pregnancy and hours of labour (though, admittedly, he hadn't really been there for the latter). Somewhat nervous, he made his way across the room so that he could get a good look at his - his and Victoria's - child.

Victor Van Dort had had some pretty close experiences with death, including going to the Land of the Dead where he ended up befriending many dead people themselves, and yet nothing had taken his breath quite like this.

The baby was, just like her mother, fast asleep already and beautiful; despite the obvious tuft of dark-nearly-black brown hair and pale complexion that was obviously Van Dort family traits, she looked absolutely _perfect_. She was unbelievably healthy with glowing pink chubby cheeks and her tiny body taking in breaths evenly; she had Victoria's nose, thank goodness, and the same shaped-eyes with long eyelashes. She was the very picture of innocence; she was pure, untouched by the harsh world around her, and Victor longed to have his sketchpad and ink so that he could capture his daughter like this because it was honestly one of the most beautiful things he had seen.

He and Victoria had discussed names early on in the pregnancy and had come to a very quiet mutual agreement of what the baby would be called if it was a girl; it seemed only right to both of them to honour her this way, especially after what she had done for them and changed their lives.

"Victor?"

Victor tried not to jump and turned to look at Victoria sheepishly. "Victoria! Goodness, I-I'm so sorry...I've woken you up, b-but I just had to..."

She smiled at him - weakly, admittedly, but that was only to be expected - and sat up in bed. "I can't sleep; I pretended for the doctor so that he'd leave."

He couldn't help but smile at this; since being married, they'd both seemed to come out of their shells - at least around each other - and it was quite a pleasure to know this side of his wife that wasn't what her parents had pushed her to be.

"How is she?"

"She's...perfect," Victor muttered, unable to come up with the words suitable for the situation. "Victoria, she's...she's healthy and beautiful and...and..." He paused, smile slipping slightly as he mulled over something in his mind. "She needs a name."

Victoria raised an eyebrow tiredly. "She already has a name; she's always had a name. Unless of course you've changed your mind-?"

"Oh, no! Goodness no!" Victor interrupted hurriedly. "I mean...I wasn't sure if...if that was what you wanted...considering the circumstances..." He looked down at their daughter for a moment, and he let out a deep breath. "She does look like an Emily, though, doesn't she?"

"I wouldn't know," She said, somewhat amused. "I haven't actually looked at her yet, what with the doctor and Mrs Baker being in the way." She sent him a small smile. "May I?"

Oh no. He'd have to pick her up...Victor looked at the baby in sudden fear: what if he dropped her? Something told him that babies weren't easily replaceable when you broke one...oh, but Victoria _did_ need to see her! To see how beautiful she was!

"Alright," Victor muttered, and he carefully reached into the cot to try and pick the baby up. "Am I doing this right, do you think? I-I can't tell..." But, surprisingly, it wasn't actually as hard as he had anticipated; the baby gave a snuffle and wriggled a little bit before settling in his arms and continuing to snooze. Well then...it could have gone _worse_, he supposed...

He then remembered that he was clumsy and awkward at the best of times, so quickly handed her over to Victoria, who clearly knew a lot more than he did about holding a child by the way she took her from him.

"Oh, Victor," She murmured, and she had a tear in her eye. "You're right; she's so beautiful..." She gave a happy sigh. "Emily Van Dort...I think it will suit her."

As Victor watched his wife and child - his _family_ - he allowed himself a moment to remember a certain corpse bride he had met years prior and silently thank her.

_After all, Emily,_ he thought contently. _Without you, I don't think this would have been possible._


End file.
